Roommates
by Greeeeny
Summary: The second one-shot in a series depicting the pairing/relationship of Maria Hill and Steve Rogers and all of the situations and shenanigans they find themselves in. Steve asks Maria to be his roommate after much pleading. Although she meets his pleas with incredulity, Maria accepts, and secretly, she is grateful for it. [Originally posted on A03]


Maria wasn't a perfect person and never strived to be otherwise. Albeit, she always trained harder; pushing the limits when training in order to feel the inevitable ache and burning of her muscles, the scorching of her lungs when she gasped for air after a rigid workout, the mind numbing exercises of combing through S.H.I.E.L.D.'s databases and breaking codes, practicing her poker face in front of the mirror and undergoing practices on lie detectors; something she was accomplished at.

Despite being a credit to her profession and her field, she also had a less than credible past before Fury managed to get to her before the C.I.A or F.B.I did. Maria did things she regretted and that had given her countless sleepless and nightmare-ridden nights. A decade, or more, had passed and Maria was still living with the trauma. There were only a handful of people that shared her experiences and Romanoff had to be the one that had suffered more than she had. This was why Maria never sought out her home, a place where she could unwind after a long day and have something of her own. But Maria punished herself this way for what she had done. Only Fury had the slightest idea of the hell she had been through and Maria never slipped any detail or molecule of her life to anyone. Until the moment she had met Steve in the flesh, she never thought she'd find herself relating to him and confiding in him, let alone sharing a life and home together.

Before Steve came along, Maria had lived a rather 'nomadic' lifestyle. She didn't have an apartment and resided on the Helicarrier with barely any clothing, barely any personal items apart from a crinkled photograph, a cellphone (A Nokia 1100) and a wallet. Everything else S.H.I.E.L.D. was more than willing to provide. Meals, sanitary products, clean bed sheets, technology and weapons - you named it. And when 'nomadic' sounded too raw, Maria had resorted to calling it a 'Jedi's' lifestyle; only carrying what is really needed. To her, it sounded less gritty and a little more hopeful and optimistic. Maria found it easier to live when certain parts of her life were connotations and metaphors.

When Steve first suggested Maria move in with him, she met the offer with incredulity, musing on the difficulty of having to move two or three minuscule items into his place. It took Steve weeks of pleading and reasoning to sway her, and secretly, Maria was grateful for it. She had never felt so wanted in her life - to be wanted by someone else, to be in their home. She had once been wanted like that in her life, but for all of the wrong reasons. So it became a very drastic and very heart-wrenching change for the Agent. Steve was elated to have someone in his home because it sparked feelings of longing. He hadn't shared a home with someone, not since he and James lived together in Brooklyn before the war.

It took some getting used to. It was different having three or four other shampoo or conditioner bottles on the sill of the bathtub. It warmed Steve's heart having Maria's perfumes and creams near his toiletries in the cabinet and a collection of heels, sandals and combat boots on the shoe rack.

Initially, it was peculiar hearing someone's soft snores echoing through the hallway, hearing the electric kettle being started up early in the morning or hear the rushing of water in the bathroom at unconventional hours. Steve found himself stupidly grinning and smiling at the various tasks that signaled Maria's presence.

One night in the beginning, Steve was awoken abruptly by a sound coming from his living room. Groggily, but alert nonetheless, the super-soldier pulled out his shield which was wedged between the edge of his bed and nightstand and tip-toed into the hallway, back against the wall and peeking warily over the edge to see a slim figure peering into his fridge. His intruder was Maria getting herself a glass of milk at three in the morning. Steve watched her carefully, feeling a bit like a peeping Tom for staring at his superior in such a way. There wasn't much Steve could process, but the serum had enhanced his vision so he could see a little better at night. Maria wore one of the tracksuit pants Steve had given to her as pyjama pants and an old tee-shirt. Maria warmed up her glass in the microwave and fished out an open packet of Oreo's before sensing Steve's presence and calling out her only spectator.

"You're a bit of a creep, Cap. Did you know that?" Maria said humorously, making Steve lose his alerted stance.

From the darkness of the room, Steve could see Maria's lips pull into a smirk and he fought back a grin. He placed the shield on the floor, leaning it back on the wall.

"I thought you were an intruder, Miss Hill." Steve said defensively and almost teasingly. "And I don't take lightly to intruders."

"Go figure." Maria said, sipping her milk and motioning to the flower vase that Steve had also unknowingly wielded in his other hand.

Steve, now awoken and wide-eyed, knew that his chances of falling asleep were now slim and instead joined Maria at the island counter, placing the vase back on its table before sitting down.

"Had a bad dream?" Steve asked her, pulling out an Oreo.

Maria, having swilled down half of her glass, put it down on the counter and shifted on her stool.

"Yeah," Maria said reluctantly, "I am afraid you are going to have to get used to the midnight ' _intrusions_ ', Rogers. They happen quite frequently."

"I'm all for them, Miss Hill." Steve said, "It's nice not being alone anymore."

A tiny smile crossed Maria's face and the soldier warmed up his own glass of milk.

The midnight intrusions continued and Steve had learnt that he didn't need to get up every time he heard the humming of the microwave or the pouring of milk. He thought it best to let Maria be and give her some privacy. Day by day, night by night, his roommate and new friend settled in nicely and began indulging in the freedom of having personal possessions and an entire apartment almost to herself. She had insisted on doing their groceries and had started to clutter up their shared bookcases with various novels, biographies and shelves with CD/DVD cases and photo frames.

With the addition of another person in his abode, the laundry load doubled and it had become a mission at separating his clothing from Maria's when it came to ironing and hanging it out to dry. Maria insisted on combining their loads in order to save water and slim down the electricity bill. It was a bit of embarrassment when he sometimes found Maria's panties or bras in his washing, but he knew that it was one of those things that came along with sharing your space with someone else, particularly a woman.

As much as Steve had protested it, Maria did the ironing for the both of them. A sting of guilt pierced through Steve whenever he found his own laundry, ironed and folded neatly in his dresser. Even more so whenever he came home after an op, whether it lasted for a few days or even weeks at a time, he always found his dresser stocked with clean and fresh clothing, his room purged of dust and the entire apartment spick and span. Although Maria was rarely ever shipped out into the field, she was still a busy woman and wondered how she ever came around to even keeping domestic order in their apartment.

A year after Maria had moved in, Steve came home from an op with S.T.R.I.K.E. late in the evening, his feet dragging on the floor and shoulders sagging from exhaustion. Leaving all of his bags and gear at the entrance, figuring he would sort everything out in the morning, Steve slumped into the living room to find Maria snoring lightly on the sofa, her face young, radiant and tranquil - signs of a sleep without nightmares. Jet lag kicking in, it took Steve a moment or two to notice that Maria was in his favourite plaid shirt. Why she was wearing it, Steve had no clue. Careful to not wake her, Steve picked her up as gently as he could and carried Maria to her room. With utmost tenderness, Steve tucked Maria into bed and pulled the covers over her. Maria, still in deep sleep, huddled the covers up to her chin and mumbled in approval.

A smile crept onto Steve's face and he brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen on his roommate's face, letting an index finger brush over her temple.

Steve sighed, an eye still lingering on Maria, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

" _She is still my roommate_." Steve thought to himself before leaving and closing the door just enough to let a beam of light into the room.

" _But she means so much more to me than that_." Steve thought once more.


End file.
